By Michael Leach

Spring starts with an act of Congress.

Daylight Savings Time revives winter weary gardeners with a bright hope more potent than any herbal tonic or miracle drug.

With an extra hour of daylight at supper time, winter’s mind game is up. Hope shines through the west windows long after the evening news. Instead of hunkering down to dinner in the dark,  there’s time to garden after dessert.

Winter’s psychological start comes with the autumnal switch back to standard time. Something about coming home in near darkness, when the day before it was a fading sunset, that makes winter as real as stinging sleet.

An urge to hibernate descends with the early dusk and reminds us this is the time to gather near the stove, cover up and rest. For a few weeks, this approach makes for a guilt-free spree of reading and dozing on the sofa after supper. I rejoice in the reprieve from weeding, watering and working outdoors.

Hope stays alive inside with potted begonias, succulents and other subtropical favorites. But a contained garden, even in a sun porch with large, south-facing windows, fails to satisfy to the same degree as only a few moments spent working sun-warmed garden soil filled with “free-range” plants.

Those of us who are natural outsiders eventually chaff at this seasonal house arrest. Just as a  sun-loving plant grows spindly and pale when placed too far from the windowsill, we gaze out the window and search for some sign of spring’s return.

Perhaps our need for grounding in the world beyond the glass makes gardening so special. Gardeners connect to the earth as we till and sow. We wear sun hats and silly grins in the spring air and sunlight.

We are nurtured even as we nurture. Plants don’t merely feed us and give us oxygen, they inspire joy when we see them greening, flowering and breathing life into the stale scene of straw lawns and skeletal trees.

This gift of evening light comes with a price, so typical of almost any congressional activity.

First, there’s poor man’s jet lag lasting several days. Because biological clocks don’t reset with the ease of a digital alarm, we live in discombobulated bodies that feel like they flew to a different time zone.

Spring is as mercurial as a cat, especially here in the Midwest. One minute all purring and nuzzling, the next hissing snowy wind.

We endure remembering these wintry mood swings are short-lived and the season eventually stretches itself with a big lazy yawn into the steady warmth of late May.

Desperate for a sunshine and fresh air fix, we tackle absurd chore lists on a single spring afternoon. Inevitably, bodies ache in places we never knew muscles and nerve endings existed.

This too will pass as muscles tone and strengthen with the rhythm of weeding, watering and working that return with daffodils, robins and Daylight Savings Time.

By Debra Knapke

This will be one of those “list” posts: books I have to read before the spring gardening season starts…

There are more books to read than I have time: luscious slice of life stories, philosophical tomes, science-based books that increase my knowledge and practical how-to-garden books.  And, I have a problem.   While I’m reading one book,  I will find another book  – or two or three – that I have to read.  I have the pictured books all partly read, now I have to find the time to finish them.

Richard Louv’s book, The Nature Principle, caught my attention through the quote on the back:  “Imagine a world where we’re as immersed in nature as we are in technology, where we come to our senses, where we feel more alive.”  This time of year finds me yearning to get back into the garden.  This book speaks to this need.

How can you not read a book entitled Chanterelle Dreams, Amanita Nightmares?  I have always been intrigued by the fruiting bodies of fungi.  Their forms, colors and life histories are fascinating.

Teaming with Nutrients is a follow-up book to Jeff Lowenfels’s book, Teaming with Microbes. His second book promises to be just as informative as his first, and I intend to incorporate some of his information into my Plant Sciences class at Columbus State.

The Forest Unseen was a gift.  Imagine sitting and looking at a small patch of ground and thinking about all the influences and interactions that led to its appearance and its continuation.  Now write it all down in a journal.  I just finished February.  I’m trying to read this book along with the unfolding of this year, so I will not finish this book before March 21^st.

The last book is a seasonal, herbal journey through the year.  I think I will dip and sip as I need the different topics that it offers.  Its intent is similar to The Nature Principle in that it invites you to bring nature into your life through the celebration of the cycle of the year.

So, maybe they all don’t have to be finished by March 21^st… thank goodness!

By Debra Knapke

I’m Late, I’m Late!!  Like the White Rabbit in Alice of Wonderland, I’m running around trying to catch up – already.  Usually, Tony and I have ordered and received our seeds by now.  What happened to the winter… oh, yeah, shoveling snow.

I just ordered some seeds from Renee’s Seeds, several new, to me.  I can already imagine the flavors of summer and fall:  baked sweet miniature Honey Nut winter squash with sautéed Darkibor kale on the side complemented with a salad made of Gala mache, Black Cherry tomatoes and heirloom mesclun greens.

My garden, several years ago.  I look at this picture this time of the year
to remember and say to myself: soon, soon …

By Teresa Woodard

Snow still remains in my backyard, but that doesn’t keep pussy willow shrubs from bursting their trademark fuzzy catkins along leafless branches.

While these willow shrubs are easily overlooked in the summer, they present an unmatched beauty in the Midwest’s stark winter landscapes. As spring approaches, their stem colors of red, yellow, blue and purple become more vivid. And, their tight buds give way to downy blooms among the season’s first. Their petal-less flowers, called “catkins”, appear in silver, yellow and black and provide vital food for bees and other insects waking from winter hibernation.

Willows (Salix) grow best in full sun, moist but well-drained soil and open spaces away from the competition of other plants. New willow plants initially need consistent watering to establish roots, but after a year they are fairly drought tolerant. Thankfully, willows are fast growers so there’s plenty of opportunities to cut stems to bring indoors each spring.

To learn more, visit the impressive willow collection at Chadwick Arboretum.

By Teresa Woodard

Here’s another wonderful early bloomer — witch hazel (Hamamelis).  I like to admire its diminutive blooms up close, so I clip branches to display indoors.

With its fragrant and colorful blossoms (ranging from red to yellow), witch hazel is a favorite shrub in Midwestern winter landscapes.  They bloom anytime from December to March, depending on the season’s weather. Even better, they don’t require special feeding or fertilizer, and they’ll grow in most soil conditions.

To learn more, check out Debra Knapke’s previous post or visit a local arboretum to see these treasures in bloom.  Dawes Arboretum in Newark, Ohio, offers a great collection.  Here are some snapshots from my visit.

Hamamelis ‘Orange Beauty’

Hamamelis ‘Orange Glow’

Hamamelis ‘Kohankie Red’

Hamamelis ‘Limelight’

DESCENDANT – most of these organisms are either endangered or considered to be extinct in some or most of their native habitat. (From the Dayton Art Institute’s website)

By Debra Knapke

A dear friend invited us to see an inspiring exhibit at the Dayton Art Institute.  The artistry of Isabella Kirkland beautifully displays the biodiversity of our world.  She achingly shows us what we have lost and what we have threatened as well as invites us to gaze upon the species that have been recently discovered.   It is difficult to describe the luminous quality of her work; please view the below pictures as the merest taste. If you want more, visit Isabella Kirkland’s website, where you can see her work and click on various species to see which ones we have lost and which ones we have gained.

A close-up of GONE – the species depicted in GONE are extinct mostly as a result of human colonization of the New world. (From QUEST’s sustainability website)